


Moonjay Imperetive

by TiberiusFlintgauge



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Romance, F/M, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25773799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiberiusFlintgauge/pseuds/TiberiusFlintgauge
Summary: Modern AU in which the human kingdoms are at war with Xadia after a long history of wrongs from both sides, and Callum and Rayla are forced to work together toward peace. My primary focus here is a modern wartime Rayllum, but there is plenty of secondary plot and some generous world building along the way so that things don't get too stuffy.
Relationships: Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	Moonjay Imperetive

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally intended to be a modern wartime Rayllum one shot, but things got way out of hand as I was writing. If anyone reads this and enjoys it, let me know how much content you'd like to see in this world.

Callum did his best to look engaged, sitting at a long, worn wood table in the battered stone spire that served as the war room. The meeting dragged on and on, and he now only faintly registered General Opeli's constant droning as if a fly buzzing around his ear. His unfocused gaze wandered upward toward the vaulted ceiling — or what was left of it — of the castle spire, rough stone torn open to the blue skies above by the last bombardment from Lux Aurean troops that had gotten too close. It would soon be covered by a tarp until the stonemasons could get around to fixing it before the next attack cracked it open again.

These meetings, once a source of excitement and purpose for him, had become something he loathed attending. Once upon a time, when General Opeli had discovered his skill in mapmaking and his near photographic memory, he'd been invited to a meeting of the Katolian military leaders in this very war room.

He'd been floored by the invitation, thinking he finally had an opportunity to present his ideas for improving Katolian defense and resource management. He had detailed sketches and diagrams of advanced elven armor technology, Del Barrian water treatment facilities, and hyper-efficient Neolandian solar panels. It was insanely lucky that he'd been able to see any of those things for himself, out on diplomatic trips with his brother.

So, naturally, when he seized a moment to present this incredible information to the war council, he was shot down immediately. Commander Fallow's exact words had been, “A step-prince of an archaic and powerless royal line makes an intelligence expert not,” and then, curtly, “sit down.”

Callum got it, too, he really did. Back before Harrow died, Callum had convinced the king to try peaceful negotiations with an Earthblood clan camped out in the Katolian wilderness, readying themselves for an attack on the heart of Katolis to retrieve their imprisoned kin.

Against the better judgment of the war council and his advisors, the king promised his son that he would at least try diplomacy with the elves. “You have a good heart,” Harrow had said, firm, calloused hand resting with reassuring weight on Callum's shoulder. “It isn't always the most practical thing to have in times of war and hardship. Remember that. But I am proud of the selfless, honorable man you are becoming. I love you, son.”

It was one of the greatest moments of Callum's life. Ironically, it was a precursor to one of the absolute worst things to ever happen in his life.

Harrow had gone to meet with the elves per Callum's request. He was resolved to go alone if he needed to, but even in utter disagreement, the war council would not let him face the elves by himself. They assigned him a squadron of Katolian Raiders, some of the finest trained soldiers in the land.

The Earthblood clan had agreed to meet for peaceful discussion. Instead, Harrow and his escort of Raiders walked into an ambush before even a single word was spoken between man and elf.

Two Raiders died that day. King Harrow was shot through the shoulder and General Fallow's son was gravely injured.

The council, save General Opeli, blamed Callum for the disaster. Callum blamed himself far more than they ever could, and it had taken him two years to shake off enough of the shame and grief to walk without a hung head again.

He wanted to make up for the lives he was responsible for ending that day, and he knew he'd never really be able to, but he could make life safer and easier for the people of Katolis. The council just had to trust him — but that, it seemed, would never happen.

“—Master Cartographer. _Master Cartographer,_ are you with us?” General Opeli questioned, eyes boring into Callum from across the table.

“Yes!” Callum responded reflexively. “I'm here, I'm listening.” Well, he was listening _now._ He couldn't say he had been.

“Then perhaps you'd like to show the council the position of the Elven Alliance's latest forward operating base, as requested?” Opeli asked, hands on her hips.

“Oh. Right,” Callum said, catching up to the present. “Over the past week I've been working with Corvus and the rest of the KSTF to locate the Elven Alliance's new primary base of operation. Task Force 3 was able to track four different cargo vehicles bringing in troops and supplies over the course of the week.”

“Two of the vehicles came from the Xadian border,” Callum continued, “but the remaining two seemed to come from the abandoned Eleven Alliance FOB at Fort Helsted. Using the paths of these vehicles and the vicinity we tracked them to, we were able to triangulate a probable position in the Lower Fountain Valley, most likely at Tarim.”

He pointed out the marked position on the map he'd drawn up, perfectly scaled.

“Very good,” Opeli replied, looking slightly mollified. “Lieutenant Rane, with this new intel, we're going to need to mobilize some of the 6th as soon as possible to get proper recon...”

Callum slumped back into his chair with a sigh, ready to let the rest of the meeting pass by as a faint humming in the back of his mind.

He was sick of these meetings. He was sick of this war. He was sick of constantly having to wonder who would die next. This was not the kingdom that Harrow had intended Ezran to inherit, and it wasn't the one Callum wanted for him either.

All of a sudden, there was a commotion coming from the entrance to the room: the gradually ascending pound of boots on stone accompanied by echoed shouts, channeled through the spiral stairway.

A soldier — Callum recognized him as Marcos — burst through the chipped door of the war room with no regard for protocol, red-faced and huffing. His camouflaged uniform was muddy, as was his body armor.

General Opeli was caught mid-sentence, a finger raised in the air as if about to make some profound point. Her eyes snapped sharply to the intruder. “What is the meaning of this?” she snipped.

“Ma'am,” Marcos wheezed, “There's—” he sputtered, before hacking out a cough.

“For the sake of the Primals, son,” Fallow said, “catch your breath.”

A guard at the entryway handed Marcos a canteen of water and he took a hasty gulp from it, wiping his mouth.

After a deep breath, he stood a little straighter. “Council,” he addressed, snapping halfway to attention as if suddenly remember decorum, “I was out on patrol by the eastern wall today. At approximately 1100 hours, I heard voices deep in the forest. I went to investigate and came upon a band of...”

The council waited, everyone sitting straight now.

“A band of what, Corporal?” Opeli prompted. “Speak.”

“Well,” Marcos continued, with trepidation, “A band of Moonshadow Elves, ma'am. They looked like special forces.”

_Moonshadow Elves?_ What would bring them to Katolis again? They'd backed out of the Elven Alliance years ago. What would bring a squad of special forces Moonshadows right outside of the castle?

There was a breath of silence around the council table. Then, all spoke at once. Tones of disbelief, fear, and outrage flew back and forth across the table. Opeli stood at the head of the storm, collecting her thoughts. When she'd had a moment, she called for order once again.

“Order!” she yelled. “Councillors, please, order in the room!”

Gradually, the voices died down to murmurs, and even those, with a sharp look from Opeli, died out too. She cast her gaze back to Marcos, who was still seemingly unsure whether he was supposed to stand at attention or not, settling for an awkward halfway with his feet affixed to the floor.

“At ease, corporal,” Opeli said. Marcos relaxed, even if his shoulders only dropped about half an inch. “How do you know they were Moonshadows? And that they were special forces?”

“Well, ma'am,” he said. “The white hair and dark horns were pretty easy to spot when I came upon them.”

“Fair enough,” she replied. “And they _were_ special forces? You're sure of this? It's important.”

“Um,” Marcos hesitated. “I've never really seen any Moonshadow SF's before, but I've heard about them from some of the older guys in the platoon. These elves were wearing those drab green jumpsuit uniforms, kind of like our pilots wear.”

“They had those super lightweight looking armor plate carriers on,” he added. “And they had face tattoos. I've always heard that the only Moonshadows who still get face tattoos are special forces.”

Silence again for a moment.

“Moonshadow assassins and priestesses,” a voice amended from the back corner of the table, tucked away in the shadows of the room. “Assassins and priestesses still receive face tattoos. It's irregular to see any common Moonshadow sporting them these days.”

Callum recognized the voice without needing to turn his head. He had known High Councillor Viren since he was a child.

“You've been strangely quiet until now, Viren,” Opeli noticed.

“Just letting the proceedings take place,” Viren replied dismissively.

After a beat, Opeli returned to the matter at hand. “Well, if what you say is true, this is highly concerning. Unless any council member here has information I'm unaware of, we have no understanding of why Moonshadow Elf assassins are right outside of Katolis' stronghold.”

She scanned the room, waiting for someone to speak up. No one offered a peep.

There was a distinctly fearful sense of dread about the room now as the councillors glanced from side to side, all waiting on one another to offer up some sort of explanation.

Moonshadow Assassins were feared and fabled across the land for a reason. They had a long and ancient history, sacred beliefs and rituals that no one seemed to understand, and an iron-hard resolve to accomplish their mission — which, usually, meant killing someone.

If they ever failed, it was unheard of.

Opeli seemed to come to a realization. “Corporal Marcos,” she said.

The corporal snapped back to a haggard attention. “Yes ma'am?”

“You're telling me you got close enough to see their face markings? How did you escape without them seeing you?” she questioned.

Marcos swallowed at this. “Ah...” he began. “To tell the truth, ma'am, one of them actually spotted me and alerted the others. One of them came at me. I raised my rifle to defend myself, but before I even got the barrel up, she had disarmed me and was holding my own weapon to my head.”

Opeli's face was pure perplexity. “How, then, did you escape?”

Marcos shrugged. “I don't understand it either, ma'am. She held the barrel to my head for a while. Then, she lowered it, maybe only a couple of inches. She still could have shot me easily if she wanted to. But I started to back away, thinking maybe she'd lost her nerve.”

“Before I knew it,” Marcos went on, “I was running through the forest and back to the castle, waiting for a bullet in my back that never came.”

Callum's eyes narrowed. It just didn't make any sense.

* * *

With no knowledge of why the assassins were here, the council had placed the entire inner stronghold on lockdown. No one was to enter or leave the castle for any reason, and Ezran was in the king's chambers, an increased guard posted around him.

Callum didn't know what to think of the Moonshadow Elves camped outside of the castle, but he did fear for his brother's safety. Moonshadow Assassins had a history of removing unwanted world leaders from power. The night of a full moon, they'd slip in and out without even the faintest whisper or glint of a blade. One minute all is well, and the next an entire nation is upended.

He just didn't know why they would be here for blood when they'd withdrawn from the war so long ago. Without anything else to do, Callum figured he'd head to the library to see if there were any texts on Moonshadow Elves. Maybe there'd even be something about Moonshadow Assassins that could help him figure out what their motives might be. It was a stretch, but it beat sitting around and waiting for something to happen.

As he strode through the ancient halls of Katolis Castle, he watched as the last light of day streamed in through thick glass windows, shafts of golden light painting stretches of the floor before him. He wondered what would happen come moonrise, and if he'd ever walk these halls again.

He entered the library, empty, as far as he could tell. It had always been an impressively large selection, but he thought he had an inkling of where to begin his search. He made his way to a section he knew contained texts on elven history and culture, the spines of the tomes he passed all wearing a light coat of dust.

He approached the wall of books and dragged a finger slowly from title to title, hoping something would sound useful eventually.

As he perused with slightly waning hope, he heard something: a faint screeching noise above him, as if metal against metal. He felt something like a gust of wind behind him as he glanced up at the ceiling to see a vent with the grate removed. That didn't seem quite right.

“Behind you,” came an unfamiliar, strangely accented voice.

Callum yelped, whirling around as fast as he could and pressing his back against the bookcase. In a battle-ready stance in front of him was the most striking person he'd ever seen. In a mere second, his brain took in the shining white hair, the curved obsidian horns, the deep-purple face tattoos, the lilac eyes above those tattoos, a smooth and attractive face, and a lithe form ready to pounce.

“You make another noise or move a muscle without permission, human,” the elf said, “and you're dead. Understand?”

Callum, very much wishing not to die, didn't make a noise or move a muscle. She held no weapon in her hands, but Callum could see the pistol holstered at her side and the blade sheathed and strapped to her leg.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I asked you a question,” she said. “I need a response.”

Callum couldn't help what came out of his mouth. “You're sending _very_ mixed signals.”

If he could've slapped himself without startling her into killing him, he would've.

Her brows came down even further and she took a step forward. “Okay, smart guy. Listen to me closely,” she said. “I'm here for two people, and two people only. No one else needs to die tonight. Not even you, so long as you tell me where King Ezran and Prince Callum are.”

Callum felt the world trying the tug the ground out from underneath him.

This assassin was here for him and Ezran?

“Once again, daft boy,” the elf said. “I need a response. My patience is wearing thin.” Her eyes were darting around now, probably wary of being discovered after staying in one place so long.

For once in his nineteen years of life, it seemed Callum had absolutely no words. Should he lie? Say the king and the prince weren't in the castle? She clearly didn't know what they looked like by sight. Maybe if he told her who he was, he could bargain with her just to take his life and leave Ez out of this.

Turns out, Callum didn't need to figure it out.

“Pst! _Pst!_ Callum, is that you? Who are you talking to?”

The elf's face scrunched up in confusion, her stance faltering. Callum might've appreciated how cute it was if she hadn't been sent to kill him.

He realized two things at once: One, Ezran's disembodied voice was speaking to him at a rather inopportune time from somewhere nearby, and two, the elf hadn't known that she was speaking to Prince Callum before, but now she certainly did.

She seemed preoccupied with figuring out where the voice was coming from, though.

“Who's there?” the elf called out. “Show yourself!”

A large painting at the end of the aisle swung out from the wall, and Ezran stepped out of a tunnel behind it. Ezran's eyes went wide as he read the situation in front of him, clutching Bait a little tighter to his chest.

The elf pulled the pistol from her holster and held it low at her side now. Clearly, she didn't like that there were now two humans to deal with.

“Who are you?” she asked pointedly.

“Ummm,” Ez replied, “I'm nobody, really. But this is my friend, Bait. Say hello, Bait!”

Callum knew enough to cover his eyes as Ez lifted Bait up and turned his own head aside. Without warning, Bait flashed so brightly that the inside of Callum's eyelids turned pure white. He heard a pained yell from the elf and almost felt bad as she dropped to her knees and rubbed furiously at her eyes.

“Callum, come on!” his brother yelled, running back behind the painting and motioning for him to follow. He didn't need any more incentive than that. He sprinted after his brother and slammed the painting shut behind him.

Together, they barreled down the dark tunnel with only a faint glow from Bait to guide them.

“Where does this even go?” Callum huffed to his brother as thy kept running. “How did you find it? And _why_ aren't you in the king's quarters with your guards?”

“So many questions!” Ez fired back between breaths. “You first. Was that an assassin? Is she here for me?”

“Sure was,” Callum replied. “And it seems like she's here for you _and_ me.”

“Well, that's great,” said Ez. “At least I think we'll be able to lose her when we get to the end of this tunnel. I found a secret room. One entrance is here, from the library. The other is from Viren's chambers.”

Finally, they reached what looked like a dead end.

“Alright,” Ez said. “Let's see here. Rock, stone, stone, rock, stone—”

Callum couldn't tell the difference between the rocks and the stones Ez was pushing, but he was more worried about the killer that had most likely recovered by now. Even though he couldn't see the elf, he felt like a gun was being pointed at his chest.

Suddenly, there was heavy scraping noise, like stone shifting. Dust sprayed into the air around them.

“Aha!” Ez exclaimed. “I got it! Come on, down the staircase.”

Callum stepped onto the staircase as it spiraled down into the hidden chamber. Once it stilled, he hopped off onto the ground and surveyed the room.

Whoever used this room had some strange hobbies, that was for sure. There were bits and pieces of creatures preserved in jars all over the place, along with many animal skeletons and what could have been elf or dragon horns.

Ez pulled a lever and the stone staircase began to retract. The brothers looked at each other with a bit of relief. They would be safe for now.

Or so they had thought. Just as the staircase was about to seal itself shut completely, the slim form of their Moonshadow pursuer dove through the barest crack left in the ceiling and rolled into a standing position directly in front of them.

Callum and Ezran backed away into the far side of the room, hands up in surrender.

“Alright,” she said, brandishing one pistol at Callum and unholstering another from her back to point at Ezran. “No more games. _Your_ time has come, Prince Callum. And you,” she gestured with the pistol pointing at Ezran, “are going to stay very still until I know who you are.”

Callum looked hopelessly to Ezran. “Turn around, um...Soren. You don't need to see this.”

Ezran's eyes went wide. Callum could see tears beginning to well there, but what he saw more of was outrage.

“No!” Ezran shouted with such force that the elf flinched. “You're not going to kill Callum just because he's a prince. He's done nothing wrong! If you have any honor at all, you'll stop this now and walk away.”

The elf laughed a derisive laugh. “Honor?” she spat. “A human will stand here and lecture me about _honor?_ I've heard all my life about the exploits of humans. About how there's nothing but trickery and deceit in you. You steal the very lifeblood of my homeland and yet you stand here and mock me by appealing to honor!”

Ez's face twisted up, confused. “Wait,” he said. “Hold on. What are you even talking about, 'the lifeblood of your homeland?' What do you think humans took from you?”

“Don't play daft with me. Even if you don't know, the prince surely does. He's as guilty as can be. After all, it was Katolis alone who destroyed the Lunarium.”

“The Lunarium...” Ezran mumbled to himself, appearing deep in thought.

“Now,” the elf said with finality, “You'll listen to your prince and turn around if you know what's good for you.” She looked back to Callum. “Have you anything to say for yourself before you go to whatever you humans call an afterlife, prince?”

Callum swallowed. There would be no way of getting out of this now.

“I only ask,” he said, “That you'd take my life as payment for your...Lunarium, or whatever else it is that you think humans have robbed you of. Don't go searching for King Ezran. He had no part in any of this.”

The elf's brows furrowed at this, and there was a look in her eyes that Callum couldn't quite name. Why was she hesitating? How had they even been able to buy this much time?

“Stop,” Ezran said. But this time, he spoke as King Ezran. Callum could tell. Head up, shoulders back, eyes steely with resolve, voice as sure as lead dropping onto concrete. “I am King Ezran, and I have something to show you. You need to lower your guns.”

“ _What are you doing?!”_ Callum whisper-yelled at him, as if the elf couldn't hear him. “Soren, I don't know why you're pretending to be the king, but you—”

“Callum, stop,” said Ezran. “I won't endanger anyone else by hiding my identity. Our elven friend seems determined to finish her job. What happens when she has to search the rest of the castle to find King Ezran? How many innocent people might she cross paths with along the way? I won't risk the safety of my people so I can hide.”

Callum stood, shocked, as he always was, when his brother showed this side of himself — like he was a younger Harrow who had already learned so many lessons from the mistakes his father made.

The elf, still standing across from them and apparently doing her best to wrap her head around the ever-changing circumstances of her mission, lowered her guns just a hair.

“You're really King Ezran?” she asked.

Ezran nodded. “I think I know what the Lunarium is. I remember learning about it in my lessons on elven culture. But, more importantly, I'm pretty sure I know _where_ it is.”

The elf shook her head, a hardness reentering her eyes, her weapons fully raised again. “This is exactly what I was warned of. I knew you humans would try to trick me, but you'll have to do better than that. The Lunarium was destroyed. There's no getting it back. All we can do now is serve justice to those responsible.”

“And,” the elf continued, “Since it was a Katolian dark mage who destroyed the Lunarium, it'll be the last remnant of the Katolian royal line that pays the price. With your dark rule at an end, maybe the world will finally have peace.”

“ _Dark rule?”_ Callum said, completely lost. “And a dark mage? There hasn't been a dark mage in Katolis since dragons flew in Xadia. This is insane! Besides, that's not how justice works at all. Even if a dark mage did destroy this Lunarium thing, Ez and I had nothing to do with it. How would killing us mean justice?”

“You know nothing of honor or justice, human! You are the leaders of your kingdom and you're responsible for—”

“Both of you, be quiet!” Ezran shouted. He turned to address the elf, backing slowly toward a pedestal behind him. “The Lunarium, it was a gift from Luna to the Moonshadow Elves, wasn't it? Some kind of manifestation of her power here on earth?”

This only confused the elf further, and her pistols lowered as before, but a little further this time.

“Well,” she conceded, “yes. That's the gist of it.”

“And what, exactly, does it look like?” Ezran asked leadingly.

The elf hesitated, appearing frustrated, like she thought Ezran was just toying with her. After a beat, she seemed to resign herself to the conversation.

“It looks just like a simple stone cup,” she replied. “A cup full—”

“Of moonlight,” Ezran finished for her.

Her eyes widened and her pistols dropped to her sides for the first time since they'd entered the chamber.

“How'd you know that?” she asked.

“To be fair,” he said, “I probably could have just guessed and been right, you know? Luna, Moonshadow Elves, a sacred object...pretty safe to say that the Lunarium has something to do with the moon.”

The elf frowned.

“But!” Ezran went on, “that's not how I really knew. Please don't shoot me. I'm just going to uncover this pedestal right behind me, and...”

When Ezran yanked the heavy black cloth off of the pedastal, the room shown with a gentle, pale glow, filling the various jars and vessels with iridescent light.

Callum shook his head in disbelief. Sitting in the middle of the pedestal like some showpiece in a museum, was a cup. The elf had been right. It was a simple cup, like one that you might drink tea out of. It had no handle or other adornments. It was hewn out of some sort of blue and silver speckled rock or stone. But overflowing from its rim, in pulsating waves of gentle energy, was pure, dense moonlight.

In a trance, the elf slowly approached the pedestal. “Not possible,” she muttered to herself.

“See?” Ezran said. “Lunarium! Am I right?”

The elf spared him a glance, and Callum noticed the way the moonlight settled on her form, on her face, wrapping her in transparent blanket as if magnetized to her. The light accentuated the graceful lines of her neck, of her jaw, the gentle slope of her cheeks and nose, made her hair shimmer with health. Her eyes glowed like magical amethysts. Her horns held almost a polished sheen. Her lips looked soft.

Callum thought an assassin had no right to look so beautiful, and wondered if all elves looked this flawless all the time.

The elf, finally, spoke up. Callum found himself wishing he had something else to call her besides “the elf.”

“Yes. This is the Lunarium,” she said, reverently, her faraway gaze resting on the cup again. Then, suddenly, she backed away and aimed her weapons in the time it takes to blink. “You humans stole it from it us. You took our connection to Luna in your greed for power.”

Callum and Ezran found themselves raising their hands in surrender again. “Look,” Callum said. “You're probably right. A human probably did steal the Lunarium and bring it here. But _we,”_ Callum gestured to his brother and back to himself, “had nothing to do with that. I didn't even know what the Lunarium was until like a couple minutes ago.”

“You still don't,” said the elf.

“I'm sure you're right,” Callum replied. “But you must understand that one human doing a bad thing doesn't mean that all humans are responsible, or that all humans are bad. Don't get me wrong, there are terrible humans! Awful humans! But there are good, and noble humans too. Just like I'm sure there are good and bad elves.”

There was quiet for what felt like an eternity as the elf seemed to struggle with her own thoughts. Callum glanced at Ezran, who gave him a forced _good speech, bro!_ smile and two thumbs up with his conveniently raised hands.

As the elf wrestled with what to do, a plan was brewing rapidly in Callum's mind. Suddenly, like someone had flipped a switch, he felt like he'd found his purpose in this war-torn world.

He looked into the elf's eyes, resolve flashing in his own. “Can I ask you something?” he said, gently as he could, containing the excitement that his racing thoughts had stirred within him.

She looked reluctant. “What is it?”

“You know our names,” Callum said. “Would it be fair for us to know yours?” Callum didn't want to push his luck this far, but somehow it had continued to hold until now, and he had a feeling that this elf girl really wasn't a bad person at all, assassin or not.

She looked like she was being forced to swallow a spider. “I...” she said, obviously unsure. “Rayla,” she let out with a sigh. “My name's Rayla.”

_Even a pretty name,_ Callum thought.

“Thank you,” Callum said honestly. “Rayla, could we talk? You know, without the guns pointed at us and all? Just like people having a conversation?”

Rayla looked surprised with herself, but she holstered her weapons after a moment's deliberation. “Fine,” she replied. “I admit, finding the Lunarium intact changes a great many things. But for all I know, you still could've been involved in its theft, and I don't trust you, even a smidge.”

“That's fine,” Callum conceded, “and I guess I can't really blame you.” He figured the only reason she'd agreed to holster her weapons was because she could whip them out again like it was nothing if need be. He and Ezran were clearly unarmed.

Rayla narrowed her eyes suspiciously for what felt like the hundredth time. “So,” she said. “It would seem to me there isn't much to discuss. I'm going to take the Lunarium to my team, and you'd better hope they see it as enough of a reason to spare your heads. Otherwise, I'll come back and finish the job myself.”

Callum shook his head. “See, I don't believe that.”

Rayla looked affronted. “Don't believe what?”

“That you'll kill us. Because you don't really want to kill us at all, do you? If you did, you would've done it a long time ago. You would've shot me without a second thought when you learned my name, and you would've done the same to Ez when you learned his.”

Callum could see the hesitation there, the reluctance, the sickness behind the eyes at the mere thought of killing another person, watching the life drain out of them with their blood as it pools on the ground. He saw that she'd never put her finger on the trigger, he saw the relief in her face when he'd kept her talking, given her any reason to delay the inevitable.

She didn't respond, didn't give him any reason to believe that his assumption was right or wrong. Callum decided just to go for it. He hoped he wasn't wrong about her.

“You've never taken a life before, have you?”

The look in her eyes was wounded, and Callum couldn't tell if it was good or bad that he'd struck a nerve.

“Keep going, human,” she said, low, “and you'll be the first.”

He knew it. He'd known he was right. “Come on, Rayla. It doesn't have to be this way. I have a plan, if you'll hear it.”

“What are you on about?” she said, her pride still clearly injured.

“You need to take the Lunarium back to your people, that's obvious,” Callum said. “But if you're as tired of this war as I am — of people dying every day, of cities being bombed to rubble, of families being torn apart — then we need to go with you to return the Lunarium to its rightful place.”

“ _What?”_ Rayla said. “Are you mad? What makes you think I'd trust you to travel with me, especially carrying something so precious?”

“Listen, this could be a message to the rest of the world! The King and Prince of Katolis working with a Moonshadow Elf to bring back a stolen sacred artifact! It could be the start of a new era, the sign that our races need in order to start talks of peace.”

“Ooh!” Ezran exclaimed, bouncing on his toes now. “Yes, Callum! I like this idea. I'm in, sign me up.”

“What?” Rayla shook her head, face contorting. “Wait, there's nothing to sign up for. This is absurd. I can't trust you two, and besides, my people withdrew from the war years ago, what makes you think returning our Lunarium will make any difference for the rest of the elves still at war?”

“It's a gesture that's unheard of! Humans have never worked with elves to right a wrong so huge. This could be the beginning of something, I can feel it.”

“Yeah, well,” Rayla said, “What you're _feeling_ could also just be something funny you ate for lunch, so I'm sorry, but I'm going to take the Lunarium and go. You had best be grateful it was me who found you and not the others.”

“Now,” she went on, stepping forward to grab the Lunarium. Deftly, she unbuckled the clasp of her pack and swung it over one shoulder, unzipping it and placing the Lunarium gingerly inside before closing the bag and reclasping its strap over her chest. “If you'll excuse me, humans,” she said, backing toward the release lever, “I have things to—”

Abruptly, a tremor shook the chamber they were in, displacing multiple jars from shelves, shattering upon impact to spill their contents onto the ground.

Before any of them could ask each other what was happening, a stronger tremor shook the room violently and flung them all against the wall, more items falling to the ground.

“Sunfire Elves,” Callum said gravely. “We're being bombed from the air.”

“What?!” Rayla shrieked. “No, no, no, this can't happen right now. This is _not_ good.”

“Don't worry, Rayla,” Ezran said, “We should be safe as long as we stay in the castle till the end of the air raid.”

“It's not me I'm worried about! My team is up there, looking for _you!”_

Callum and Ezran looked at each other. They could both hear the panic in Rayla's voice.

“I'll go up,” Callum said. “I'll see if I can find any of your squadmates. If I do, I'll bring them back here.”

Tremors continued to shake the frame of the room, dust falling in thick clouds from the ceiling and puffing up from the shelves.

“You'd attempt to rescue the people sent to kill you?” she asked, doubtfully.

“Well, you said it yourself,” he replied, “They're people. And besides, you obviously care about them a lot. How many other people do they have back home that care about them? Husbands, wives, sons, daughters...”

Rayla shook her head in obvious disbelief.

Suddenly, the bombardment ceased. The three looked at each other, not daring to hope just yet that it was over for good. There was a minute of tense silence. Then, assuming it had really ended, they let out a collective sigh of relief.

“We should go up,” said Ezran. “Just for a bit before we leave with Rayla. We need to make sure there aren't any wounded around us that need our help.”

“I already told you daft humans!” Rayla interjected, “You're not going with me. That's final.”

“Well, you'll either have to kill us or just let us tag along, because we're coming whether you like it or not,” Callum said.

“Uuggghh!” was Rayla's articulate response.

Ezran pulled the lever to let the staircase down. When it had lowered, he and Callum crept cautiously to the top to peek out into the tunnel. When there was no sight or sound there to meet them, they looked at each other and shrugged. Callum glanced back and motioned for Rayla to follow. She rolled her eyes, but at this point, she had no choice but to go out the way she came in.

Together, they made their way back to the painting in the library and listened. After once again hearing nothing, Ezran threw the painting open. Just as he took his first steps into the library, an unexpected group of visitors arrived.

A raiding party of Sunfire Elves in full combat gear, kitted with rifles, stormed into the library, sweeping the aisles with lightning speed. Ezran froze, too shocked that the castle had been breached for the first time in this long, bloody war to even move back behind the painting again.

In some unspoken agreement, seeing the situation, Callum and Rayla grabbed Ezran, each by a shoulder, and began to pull him forcibly back behind the painting again.

But it was too late. An elf rounded the corner into their aisle before Ez was out of sight. The Sunfire Elves must have had intel that the Moonshadows didn't, because the next thing they heard was, “Here, my aisle, I see the king!”

Callum and Rayla yanked Ezran the rest of the way into the tunnel and slammed the painting shut.

“Run!” Callum, yelled. The trio turned and sped as fast as they could back to their underground chamber. Just as the rounded the first bend in the tunnel, a tight group of bullets whizzed by their shoulders with a sharp crack into the rock wall.

They reached the puzzle wall shortly and Ezran began pushing stones and rocks like his life depended on it, because it did.

The staircase began to lower, not quick enough. They could hear multiple pairs of boots slamming into the tunnel behind them, closer and closer.

“Come on, _come on,”_ Callum muttered. As soon as they could, they shot down the staircase together and Rayla yanked the lever. They moved to the back of the room anxiously and stared at the still retracting stairway.

The stairway sealed itself shut. In a strange mirror of a moment not too long ago, they glanced at each other with relief, only this time Rayla was part of the relief, not the cause for fear.

Callum began to speak. “I can't believe they've breached the—”

The next thing Callum knew, he was on his back, his vision was blurry, his ears were ringing, and rubble rained down from the ceiling onto his body. He coughed up grit that entered his airway.

Instinct drove him to sit up and survey his surroundings even if, for a moment, he couldn't remember where he was or what was going on. Through a grey haze of dust and grit, he spotted his brother's fluffy head, full of debris. He crawled to him. “Ez,” he choked out, coughing. “Ez.” He rolled him onto his back.

To Callum's great relief, Ezran's bright blue eyes fluttered open, and he hacked a cloud of dust into Callum's face. His senses returning to him, Callum attempted to get Ezran into a sitting position. “Come on, buddy,” he said, scratchy as ever. “Didn't you say there's another exit somewhere? We've got to go.”

Ezran nodded, coughing, and stood up, stumbling to a bookshelf on the side of the room. He yanked a fake book out of the wall with a distinct cranking noise, and a separate staircase lowered itself down.

Now completely recalling the situation, Callum's eyes flung wide open, his heart nearly stopping. He grabbed his brother by the shoulder. “Where's Rayla?” he asked, scanning the room in horror.

Ezran's eyes searched alongside his until he saw something. “There!” he pointed out, wheezing again. “By the—” a cough, “—collapsed staircase.” Another cough.

Callum stumbled frantically through the rubble, eyeing the debris where the entrance from the tunnel had been. Whatever explosive the Sunfires had used had completely collapsed the entrance, leaving nothing but a wall of blasted rock and stone.

He reached Rayla's limp form, almost invisible due to the thick layer of grit covering her. He yanked the drab shemagh he was wearing around his neck and began to dust her off with it, trying to better assess how buried she really was. Most of the rubble fell right off of her, but there was a large chunk of stone on top of her left thigh.

Callum grasped the stone with both hands, and with great effort, lifted the heavy chunk off of her body, dropping it beside him with a resounding thud. It was then that he saw the tear in her pant-leg and the blood seeping out of an open wound. He let a pained noise hiss through teeth.

Crouching down beside her, he did his best to get all of the dust off of her face so she could breathe properly. Gently, he tapped at her cheek with the flat of his hand. “Rayla,” he rasped. “Rayla, we have to go. Please get up.”

Before he could start to fear the worst, Rayla's eyes shot open, purple irises clearly showing pain. Now conscious, she winced and immediately went to grab her leg.

Callum grasped her wrist mid-motion to stop her. “Some debris fell on you. You've got a pretty open gash on your leg, but I wouldn't touch it. I'll have to take a look at it once we get somewhere safe — somewhere far away from here.”

“Rayla hacked, just as they had. “What are you talking about you stupid...human? I told you you're not coming.”

“Yeah, well,” Callum replied, “I'd be surprised if you can even feel that leg enough right now to move it, so I'm gonna have to carry you.”

Rayla went red, apparently outraged at the mere thought of being toted around by a human. She made to come back at him with an undoubtedly heated response, but suddenly stared down in horror at her leg instead. Her face went from red to white alrmingly fast.

“I can't feel it,” she nearly whispered. “I can barely feel my leg except for this cut.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “That's fairly normal. Most sensation should return pretty soon. Even then, it might hurt too much to walk on, though.”

Rayla stared at him, an absolute maelstrom of emotions churning behind her eyes. Anger, embarrasssment, frustration, and then, resignation.

“So,” Callum said, trying for a brief moment of levity in an otherwise horrible situation. “Do you want to do this princess style or piggyback? You know, technically, I am a prince, so...”

Rayla hit him in the shoulder with a surprising amount of strength for a relatively small, injured elf. “Don't make this harder than it already is.” She let out a frustrated little yell and slapped the wall beside her. “I can't believe this is happening.”

Ezran came over to help. In a short amount of time, they had Rayla's leg wrapped with thick gauze from a first aid pack she'd been carrying. They then hooked the front of Rayla's plate carrier into the back of Callum's so that her weight would be distributed a little more evenly. She really wasn't all that heavy in the first place.

Apparently completely mortified, Rayla wrapped her arms and one leg around Callum's center while he carefully tugged her injured leg around him to hold as well.

Ezran looked at her seriously as she held onto Callum with great reluctance and pouted, a permanent line of embarrassment painted on her cheeks.

Ez spoke up. “At least let us get you out of here safely and see you healed up before you go to take the Lunarium back to your home. Then, you can decide if we can come with you.”

“I don't really have much of a choice now, do I?” she said, defeated and pointedly looking anywhere but at the two of them.

“Nope!” Ezran agreed happily. “Besides, our goal is the same right now. Katolis isn't safe for any of us, so we've got to get out — us because Sunfire Elves finally broke through our defenses, and you because if any humans spot you, they won't ask any questions for attacking.”

“Looks like you're stuck with us for now, Rayla, “ Callum said. “Unless we run into your team, that is.”

Rayla huffed.

Callum took that as a positive response considering their history so far. “Alright,” he said. “Is my special elf friend all strapped in up there? Need anything before we head out on our long journey?”

“Shut up and walk, dumb prince.”


End file.
